Silver James - The Cowboy's Christmas Proposition

Can a country superstar and a dedicated cop strike a Christmas baby bargain?

Being a celebrity, Deacon Tate is always careful. So when a baby is left on his tour bus, he’s 99 percent certain it isn’t his. But he’s 100 percent sure that trooper Quin Kincaid, who responds to the call, is the sexiest woman he’s ever seen. He has to have her, no matter what.

But to Quin, Deacon seems too good to be true. Can she save the baby and herself from Deacon’s spell—especially when he makes her an offer she can’t refuse?

She was a professional. On duty.

She didn’t have time to picture running her fingers through that messy hair of his. Or…or… Her gaze rose from his mouth, quirking up at the corners as it was, to meet his eyes. They really were the soft blue of a star sapphire. She curled her fingers against her belt. Would the stubble on his face be rough or as soft as his hair looked?

“Darlin’, you really shouldn’t look at a man that way.” His gruff voice was both a caress and a wake-up call.

Quin barely controlled a full-body shudder. She needed to think of ice baths and blizzards. Snow and ski slopes. High mountain air. Invigorating. Not warm. Not sexy. She took that step back, both physically and mentally. He laughed and the sound was dark and warm like fudge brownies just out of the oven. Her mouth watered.

Coffee. She needed coffee. And fresh air. Like right this minute.

The Cowboy’s Christmas Proposition

Silver James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SILVER JAMESlikes walks on the wild side and coffee. Okay. She LOVES coffee. A cowgirl at heart, she’s been an army officer’s wife and mum, and worked in the legal field, fire service and law enforcement. Now retired from the real world, she lives in Oklahoma, spending her days writing with the assistance of two Newfoundlands, the cat who rules them all and the characters living in her imagination.

As always, thanks to my family for putting up with the craziness when I’m on deadline—and that includes my wonderful Harlequin Desire team, Charles, Stacy and Tahra, plus all the amazing Harlequin folks. And a special thanks to a special reader, Anita Bartlett, for our discussion of brothers from a sister’s point of view.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text Can a country superstar and a dedicated cop strike a Christmas baby bargain? Being a celebrity, Deacon Tate is always careful. So when a baby is left on his tour bus, he’s 99 percent certain it isn’t his. But he’s 100 percent sure that trooper Quin Kincaid, who responds to the call, is the sexiest woman he’s ever seen. He has to have her, no matter what. But to Quin, Deacon seems too good to be true. Can she save the baby and herself from Deacon’s spell—especially when he makes her an offer she can’t refuse?

Introduction She was a professional. On duty. She didn’t have time to picture running her fingers through that messy hair of his. Or…or… Her gaze rose from his mouth, quirking up at the corners as it was, to meet his eyes. They really were the soft blue of a star sapphire. She curled her fingers against her belt. Would the stubble on his face be rough or as soft as his hair looked? “Darlin’, you really shouldn’t look at a man that way.” His gruff voice was both a caress and a wake-up call. Quin barely controlled a full-body shudder. She needed to think of ice baths and blizzards. Snow and ski slopes. High mountain air. Invigorating. Not warm. Not sexy. She took that step back, both physically and mentally. He laughed and the sound was dark and warm like fudge brownies just out of the oven. Her mouth watered. Coffee. She needed coffee. And fresh air. Like right this minute.

Title Page The Cowboy’s Christmas Proposition Silver James www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author SILVER JAMES likes walks on the wild side and coffee. Okay. She LOVES coffee. A cowgirl at heart, she’s been an army officer’s wife and mum, and worked in the legal field, fire service and law enforcement. Now retired from the real world, she lives in Oklahoma, spending her days writing with the assistance of two Newfoundlands, the cat who rules them all and the characters living in her imagination.

Dedication As always, thanks to my family for putting up with the craziness when I’m on deadline—and that includes my wonderful Harlequin Desire team, Charles, Stacy and Tahra, plus all the amazing Harlequin folks. And a special thanks to a special reader, Anita Bartlett, for our discussion of brothers from a sister’s point of view.

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Three

Four

Five

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Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

One

Deacon Tate was a country boy at heart. He loved life on his Oklahoma ranch—driving the tractor, singing to the cows, riding his horse and stopping to watch the setting sun wash a blaze of colors across the red dirt of home. He would sit on his front porch as twilight softened the landscape, strumming his guitar while waiting for the fireflies to come out to play. He was also a free spirit. He loved life on the road, living on the tour bus, appearing in a different city every night. He fed off the energy of the crowd, absorbing their excitement through his skin by osmosis.

Performing live was in his blood, but he was ready for some downtime in his Red, White and Cool tour. The Sons of Nashville’s manager had purposely scheduled this leg of the tour close to home. After tonight’s performance at the Thunder River Casino just outside of Oklahoma City, the band would take off the week before Thanksgiving and Deke would be heading home to his ranch. Then the Friday after, they had a concert at the BOK Center in Tulsa. They were done for a month after that. The break couldn’t come soon enough.

He sang into the microphone, but his eyes were on the female fans lining the front of the stage trying to get his attention. He flirted with them with winks, and by appearing to sing directly to one or another. He loved women. All women. And he’d only been exclusive once.

The lights dimmed, a stool appeared on stage and he picked up his acoustic guitar and sat down. One blue spotlight picked him out. Head down, he strummed a few chords. The cheers and whistles slowly faded as he played. The chords gave way to the melody he plucked on the strings. The band remained silent, unsure of where he was going. Performing this song was totally unplanned. He’d written it for his cousin Cash’s wedding but hadn’t recorded it.

Deke’s little brother, who was also the keyboardist for the Sons, was the first to recognize the song. After Dillon’s piano riff, their guitarists, Bryce and Xander, picked up the tune and Kenji, the drummer, found the rhythm. Ozzie picked up the bass line without missing a beat.

“Are you ready to take a walk?” he crooned into the microphone. “Darlin’, are you ready for me?” The crowd started to sway in time to the music and the groupies lining the stage pressed forward. Deke closed his eyes. “Are you counting the minutes? Can you feel my heart race?” He riffed on the guitar. “From this day forward, you’ll never walk alone. I’ll shelter your heart. I’ll be your home. You are my love song, my forever song, the last song that I’ll sing.”